


Under Cupid‘s Wings

by Merenwen76



Series: Cradle of Love - Prompts and Gifts [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Be Mine Valentine's Day Meme (Supernatural & Supernatural RPF), Bottom Dean Winchester, First Time, Love Spell, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29582616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merenwen76/pseuds/Merenwen76
Summary: Sam finds a spell that gives the user one night to fulfill a fantasy with their object of desire
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Cradle of Love - Prompts and Gifts [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703056
Comments: 9
Kudos: 77





	Under Cupid‘s Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firesign10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/gifts), [jessie_cristo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessie_cristo/gifts).



> My personal thanks to my two betas Firesign10 and Jessie_Cristo, thank you for your fast and wonderful help.

Sam heated the oven to 375 degrees. Even though the bunker often looked outdated, the kitchen was still in excellent condition. 

_Damn, what am I doing here?_ Sam looked at Miracle questioningly, but it was clear to him that Miracle was the last one who could answer that question. Which was probably better, because he probably would have advised him against this stupid idea. But now there was no turning back. 

Actually, Rowena was to blame, or rather her inheritance to Sam. After Sam had brought many of her things into the bunker, they lay there untouched for quite a while. Sam was still not sure if he really wanted to follow in Rowena's footsteps.

But then they suddenly defeated God, Jack was gone, and Sam felt a little without direction. Even though it was nice to just enjoy his freedom, to do what he wanted, to not feel like fate was constantly throwing a spike in the wheel of life, both brothers first had to come to terms with the new situation. 

So Sam decided to catalog all of Rowena's books, tinctures, and ingredients and add them to the bunker's archives. Dean just stood there shaking his head. "We can finally just do what we enjoy and you want to read books, you serious?!" 

But Sam just shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not going to become a different person overnight, Dean, and this, yes, I'm actually enjoying."

Shaking his head, Dean trotted off to, _oh the irony_ , wash Baby. _So much for behavior modification, Dean_ Sam thought.

And so, while both brothers had the free will to do anything they wanted, they chose to do exactly what they always did.

That day, Sam found the Grand Grimoire. Wrapped in a burgundy leather cover, it contained a collection of old parchment paper. Sayings were written there by hand. Small sketches showing symbols; properly painted and with the required spell, they banished bad dreams, cast a healing spell or an impenetrable, invisible wall. In the back there were recipes. Poultices against pain or rot. Oils that should help against menstrual pain or toothache. And herbal mixtures, dissolved as essence and provided with the right spell, they could make the one who took the mixture temporarily blind, deaf and dumb or... 

"Sub Cubidinis alas," Sam read the title of the love spell. _Under Cupid's Wings._ Administered and pronounced on Valentine's Day, the user and his or her chosen one would be under the spell. For the night of Valentine's Day, the user would be able to do anything with the object of his or her desire, knowing that at the stroke of midnight, both their memories would be erased. 

The instructions were unclear as to whether the person under the spell would do everything he was told, or whether he would read the user's every wish from his lips like a mind reader. 

Hastily, Sam closed the Grimoire again. Not so much because the following spells became even more erotic, but rather because his thoughts suddenly developed a mind of their own, awakening a desire in him that had been buried so deep for so long that he thought he would never feel them again.

For weeks, he ignored both the archive and Rowena's legacy, under the astonished eyes of his brother.

If only Dean knew that it was he who was to blame for Sam's avoidance of this room and the magical possibilities within it. 

It was not really Dean's fault, but rather Sam's forbidden, unfulfilled, dirty and wrong thoughts when it comes to his brother.

Both knew that their unconditional relationship with each other was far more than what the normal relationship of two brothers should be. There were only the two of them since the beginning, and there was no being in this world that Sam trusted more. Their dependence was their greatest strength and their greatest weakness, used more than once as leverage against them. 

Deep down, Sam feared that their relationship with each other would change, now that they were free to make their own decisions and no God, no fate, to guide them. He had believed Dean would leave, finally free of the pressure to constantly watch over Sam, no longer the little soldier he had been trained to be from childhood. And even though Sam wanted nothing more for Dean than to be happy, he was filled with a fear of no longer having Dean in his immediate vicinity.

But nothing of the sort happened, and with each passing week, each passing month, Sam breathed a noticeable sigh of relief. 

On the contrary, Dean seemed to constantly seek Sam's proximity, as if he wanted to make sure that Sam wouldn’t suddenly disappear on him.

As the New Year approached, Sam found himself back in the archives, cataloging Rowena's heritage and looking at the Grimoire again and again. As if the witch had enchanted him, the book was always in his sight. And more than once he could have sworn that he had put the spell book away, only to find it on top of the pile again the next time. Maybe it really was the sign he had been looking for.

And so Sam made a decision on the morning of Valentine's Day, for which he would either hate himself for the rest of his life or find the answer to the question he had been carrying around with him, since he was a fourteen-year-old boy. 

He had known the ingredients for the spell by heart for weeks, and yes, he had them all ready to go. The only question was how he would administer the bittersweet herbal essence to Dean. 

When he finally came up with the final idea, it was almost too easy and the only thing he needed to know was whether Dean was willing to eat with him.

"You're going to cook for both of us on Valentine's Day?" asked Dean a little skeptically.

"Why not? Or would you rather indulge your tradition and comfort abandoned hearts?" The question cost Sam more effort than he would have liked."

"Nah. No need. But seriously, you...cook?"

"I can cook, Dean."

"Yeah, water."

"I'll do pie."

"Why didn't you say so?"

And so Sam spent most of Valentine's Day in the kitchen. Except for the moment when he picked up "ingredients" from town and collected the main course from "Tony's." He made the pie dammit, there was no mention of the rest and Dean wouldn't remember it anyway.

So now, before the dough went into the oven, he generously drizzled the entire surface with the Essence and murmured the words. "Sub alis incerta Cupidinis aura super vos volo vincere" _Under the wings of Armor I want to win you over._

The dough glowed a dull red for a short time before it returned to its normal color. From there, Sam could only hope.

The meal was delicious, so much so, that Dean vowed to send Tony a Valentine's card for the romantic meal. 

Even though Dean won't remember anything tomorrow, Sam was a little offended. 

He had really made an effort to set the table in the kitchen festively; white linen tablecloth, cloth napkins and the better dishes (the ones that weren’t cracked). 

His leg jittered restlessly under the table after he put the pie between them. They each took a large piece, even though both were already more than full from the roast beef, green beans and mashed potatoes. 

It was important that they both eat the Essence, even though Sam was the one to make the spell. 

While Dean devoured forkful after forkful of the pie, Sam looked for any signs of change. 

_How would he know that Dean was under his spell? Should he order him to do something? Or think of something? For example, how Dean's lips would taste on his? How Dean's eyes would become deep and aroused when he finally looked at him the way Sam had wanted him to for so long?_

"I'm about to burst!" groaned Dean, belching.

_So much for romance._

"I know what helps." Dean got up and walked over to the icebox.

Sam had a pretty good idea what would help even if it involved more Dean's tongue slowly moving between his lips....

"Jägermeister."

"What?" Sam asked irritated, hastily checking to see if he'd accidentally drooled.

Grinning, Dean set down the ice-cold bottle and two shot glasses.

"The best stomach chaser."

"Please don't, last time I had a headache for two days from that crap." 

"Because you're not supposed to drink half the bottle, little brother," Dean reminded him, pouring a shot each. 

They clinked their glasses and the cold liquid ran down Sam's throat, immediately lighting a fire in his stomach.

Maybe alcohol really wasn't the worst idea considering what Sam was up to and so he did a second round.

"Are you sure?" asked Dean with raised eyebrows.

"Sissy or man?" countered Sam.

They enjoyed the second round of booze as well before Dean got up to clear. 

_Okay Sam, get it together._

Hesitantly, Sam stood up and rubbed his palms nervously, over his jeans. 

"Dean, what I wanted to ask..." Sam started.

"Yeah?" Dean set the plates down and turned to his brother. Bottle green eyes stared at him 

"Did you... can you… do you think...w...where's Miracle?" 

_You're such a coward._

It was almost as if Dean looked disappointed, then he leaned against the kitchen counter. "He gets to spend the night at the Deancave. I wanted to eat with you in peace without you constantly weakening and feeding the dog, besides, he messed up and this is his punishment."

Sam notices how the alcohol makes his cheeks glow.

"Dean, the only one who keeps feeding the dog from the table is you. And what did he do?"

"He scratched Baby's paint. Yesterday the door was fine, now there's a scratch, right on the door."

_Okay, it's now or never._

"That wasn't Miracle, that was me."

"W..what?" Dean tried to pull himself together, but his voice was clearly too high.

"When I went to get the food. I didn't think you'd catch it so soon."

"There's a scratch in the paint, Sam."

"I'm sorry, okay."

"You... wow, you really have the nerve to tell me that?"

"It's not like you're gonna remember it tomorrow." Sam whispered more to himself.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"What's wrong with you?"

"I was nervous, okay, slipped with the key and... can we please not talk about the car anymore now?" 

"Fine."

"Fine."

"What do you want to talk about? Are there more things you want to confess to me?" Curious, almost cocky, Dean looked at him. 

"This was a stupid idea," Sam statedand wasabout to leave the kitchen.

"Hey, wait… please." Dean's voice was soft and low. 

It was the voice that hardly anyone else ever got to hear. When Dean stripped off his armor of metal and bravado to reveal the man Sam has looked up to all his life. 

Sam remained in his position, unable to look Dean in the eye for the moment. Then he suddenly felt two hands resting on his hips. Dean's warm breath on the back of his neck made the fine hairs stand up. Could this really be happening? Slowly, Sam turned his head to the side, feeling the breath now brush against his cheek. Sam closed his eyes and took the moment to just appreciate Dean altogether. 

Dean's hands, slowly moving over his stomach, pulling him back against Dean's body. Dean's scent--sandalwood, the orange shampoo he stole from the Marriot last time, and Dean, so very Dean, to whom he could crawl under the covers when the monsters in his dreams became too real. 

"Sammy." The word, breathed against his neck, as question, answer, wish. 

Sam leaned his head back, exposing his neck and collar, feeling Dean's stubble glide over it. Dean’s lips very carefully tread previously forbidden territory. 

Sam's hands rested on Dean's, caressing each individual finger. Dean's lips worked their way up to Sam's earlobe, his teeth tentatively biting it. There’s no more room for interpretation, no more turning back.

Sam leaned his body against his brother's, feeling Dean’s arousal pressing against him from behind. Sam himself was as hard as a rock.

"I want you." Sam spoke out what he had felt in his heart for almost thirty years. He still didn't dare turn around, didn’t dare see anything like rejection or contempt in Dean's eyes. He would never be able to forget it. 

"I would give anything, if it were true." Dean's uncertain voice was what finally made Sam wheel around. 

He found himself in Dean's arms, which didn't let go of him, even with his eyes full of doubt. Sam placed his large hands on Dean's cheeks. The spell has given him everything he ever wanted, and even if in a few hours he will forget all this, he wants Dean to know how much he feels for him. 

"I love you. I love you, do you hear me? No one else, no one ever. It's you who owns my heart. That is the truth."

Tears filled Dean's eyes, but a smile appeared on his lips. "We really do the Chick flick moment? Screw it. Love you, too." With one hand he hugged Sam tighter, while the other brushed a loose strand from Sam's face. "No one will ever come between us. No one will ever mean as much to me as you do. Am I going to Hell-- _again_ \-- for loving you? I’d go with my head held high!" 

Sam felt a tear run down his cheek before Dean's fingers gently wiped it away.

"I meant what I said, Dean. I want you tonight. Believe me, it's what I really want."

Again, there's a brief moment of hesitation in Dean before he nodded slightly, and in the next moment, Sam's most fervent wish finally came true.

Soft full lips pressed down on his. Warmth flowed through Sam's entire body as he shyly returned the kiss. 

Dean's hand ran through his hair, pressing his head even closer, and Dean's tongue tip stroked his lips. Sam's body quivered under the touch. _Nothing_... nothing has ever felt like this. He pressed his hands into Dean's short hair as well, put his head to the side and opened his mouth. When their tongues touch for the first time, it’s like a lightning bolt runs through his limbs. His cock throbbed hard in his jeans and he moaned with desire. 

As if drowning, they clung to each other. Neither wanted to be the first to interrupt the magic of their first kiss. 

Only when breathing became almost impossible do they briefly disengage. Dean’s eyes were full of lust, his lips swollen and shining wetly with saliva.

Dean nodded, whether to himself or Sam wasn't clear, but they started moving. No words were necessary, the bond between them has always been stronger than any word. 

With more kisses, they left a trail of clothes through the corridors of the bunker.

What was hidden in them for decades now cannot happen fast enough. 

When Dean opened the door to his room, they fell together on his bed, already naked. Shame had never a problem between them, the daily changing in motel rooms never left much room for privacy. But this was different, this was new and everything from this moment on will feel different. _Right?_

Desperately, Sam tried to push away the thought that he will forget all this in two hours. Sam’s hands and mouth mapped out every part of Dean's body, in the hopes that, despite the spell’s properties, it will burn deep into his memory. 

Dean, too, explored every inch of Sam's skin with his hands and lips. "That I can touch you, that you are mine..." Dean's words spoken against his skin almost made Sam pause. How could Sam forget this? What perverted power gave him the most beautiful gift on earth only to snatch it away afterwards. Tears pushed up again and Sam closed his eyes so Dean wouldn't see what his declaration of love triggered in him. He has this night, and he will use it. 

With a jerk he brought Dean under him, covering him with kisses, kitten licks, and bites. He marked every corner on Dean's skin; although the spell might destroy his memory, these will stay on Dean's skin. These will show how much they loved each other this night. 

"Sam." Dean moaned his name into the room and Sam slid down Dean's body. He stroked the skin he had stitched dozens of times with a dull needle and alcohol. This time he caressed it, stroked it, and when his head was finally over Dean's most intimate part, he didn’t hesitate for a moment. He wet the hard shaft with his tongue before taking the velvet crown of the cock into his mouth. 

"Oh God." Dean's hand tugged at Sam's hair, and Sam was only more eager, taking more and more of Dean inside him. With too little experience but all the more will, he raised and lowered his head over Dean's cock, swallowing down while saliva ran over Dean's balls down to Dean's hole. 

"I, fuck, Sam, stop." If it was meant as a warning, it didn’t get through to Sam. He sucked, teased, played with Dean's cock, massaging the heavy, bulging balls until Dean let out an almost inhuman moan and came deep in Sam's throat. 

Dean's chest rose and fell rapidly, Sam still licking the half flaccid cock, as he can't get enough of it. 

"Come here to me," Dean said, still out of breath. He pulled Sam up to him, opening his legs wide and letting Sam slide between them. His look said it all, but Sam hesitated. "Dean, are you sure?"

"More than I've ever been in my life." Dean assured him. Sam tried to get up, but Dean held him back. "No."

"Dean, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't... no more than I want you to. Sam, I need to feel you, please, I need to feel you tomorrow, too."

Sam stared at Dean in disbelief, but then relented. He wet his fingers, and even though it won't be enough to take all the pain away, Sam wanted to prepare Dean as best he can. Not for a moment did he take his eyes off Dean's face. One, two, three fingers opened him up slowly, while Sam covered his face with kisses. 

"Are you ready?" Sam asked , trying to read the answer on Dean's face. Then he wet his cock with his own saliva and pre-come and joined with his brother. 

Both paused in their movements as Sam pushed into his brother's tight opening. Dean had sweat on his forehead, but he just nodded, "Keep going, don't stop."

Sam mustered every last ounce of willpower to go slowly and give Dean the time to feel him inside. 

When Sam was finally completely inside Dean, they kissed again. 

Sam's sex in the past has been hard, and fast, taking what he needed and giving it all he had. 

But this, this was different. Sure, Dean was not a fragile being, but this was not sex, not an anonymous quick fuck in a back room; this was Dean beneath him, and that changed everything. Slowly Sam began to move. 

Sam felt Dean around him, saw his brother's eyes, full of warmth and lust. Slowly he increased the pace, his own lust growing with each thrust. Dean's cock lay half stiff on his belly, trying to straighten up, but damn, they weren't twenty anymore. 

Sam felt his orgasm growing in his loins. He kissed Dean hard and increased the speed of his thrusts again. With his mouth open, he moaned against Dean's lips and eventually emptied his seed deep inside his brother. 

Slowly, he slid out of his brother and lay down next to him. They turned their heads and smiled at each other. 

"That was..." Sam gasped, struggling to catch his breath.

"Yep." Dean smirked, initially smug before his expression turned serious. “Sam, I want you to know I don't regret any of this."

Sam swallowed hard, and now that his mind was cleared of lust, his guilty conscience set in. Was this really the truth coming out of Dean's mouth, or was it Sam's own desire to hear this from Dean?

"I don't regret it either, Dean. I just wish I knew if you really felt that way."

Dean propped himself up with one elbow. 

With his other hand, he stroked Sam's cheek.

"Look at me. Every word is true. I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, but you have to believe one thing. I don't desire anyone as much as I desire you. And nothing will ever change that."

"I don't think we've ever talked so openly before," Sam noted with amusement, and Dean mumbled something into the pillow as he fell back. 

Sam watched Dean for a while longer. He saw Dean’s breathing slowly relax and soon heard a soft snore. Once again, he kissed Dean between the shoulder blades, and whispered "I love you" to him.

Then, with a heavy heart, he rose from the bed and walked alone to his room. On the way there, he collects their clothes--nothing should be left behind to confuse them, tomorrow.

He lay down in his cold bed and now, finally, he gave free rein to the tears he’d been holding back. He has nibbled from the tree of paradise and in less than an hour he will be banished.

***

The next morning, Sam woke up after a deep, restful sleep. He stretched his limbs extensively and quickly jumped under the shower. Dressed in a fresh T-shirt and pajama pants, he trudged barefoot and with still-damp hair into the kitchen. The coffee was already ready and he poured himself a large cup. Dean stood at the stove, his hair also still damp from the shower. He hummed some classic rock song while his hips moved to the beat of his imaginary music. Sam smiled and took the first sip from the cup. His gaze wandered over Dean's muscular back, his tight ass, and up to Dean's neck. Sam noticed the little love bites and hickeys, and he couldn’t deny that he's a little proud of his handiwork.

_Wait a minute._

The cup clattered to the floor and the black coffee ran all over the floor in no time.

Dean whirled around, sheer panic on his face.

"Sam?" Fear resonated in his voice, and Sam just stared at the ever-growing coffee puddle. He _remembered_. Everything about him, about Dean. _How can that be? That wasn’t how the spell was supposed to go._ Slowly, he lifted his gaze and looked at Dean. He recognizes it in a flash by Dean's look. 

He remembers too.

"Dean."

"Sam."

"Oh my God."

"Sam please, let me explain."

Sam grew dizzy, bracing himself against the kitchen counter. Dean was suddenly beside him.

"How?" he stammered; there's a rushing sound in his ears, and for a moment he thought he was going to pass out.

"I'm so sorry." Dean's voice broke, and then Sam realized that his brother was blaming himself for what happened last night.

"Dean, no."

"Yes, Sam, I...we...you shouldn't have remembered at all. Hell, I shouldn't have remembered." 

Frantically, Dean ran a hand through his hair and Sam's brain tried to keep up.

"How do you know about that? Why shouldn't you remember?"

Dean frowned "Wait a minute, you're not surprised _you_ can remember, you're surprised _I_ can remember."

"And it's the other way around with you," Sam noted.

They both blinked at each other, puzzled.

Then it was as if the scales fell from their eyes. 

"The pie."

"The Jägermeister."

"I can't believe you snuck me into a spell," Dean snapped at him, but Sam countered.

"Excuse me, you did the exact same thing."

"But that was not the plan for both of us to remember it!"

"Yeah, you think I wished that?"

"You didn’t?" asked Dean, and Sam paused with his answer.

"That means you didn't do what _I_ wanted, you did what _you_ wanted?" he asked Dean in a quivering voice.

"And when _you_ said you wanted me...?"

"It was nothing but the truth."

"Oh."

"Oh."

Dean ran his hand over his mouth. "And probably why we can remember it."

"I guess so." 

"Damn then, my ass hurts for nothing now?" 

"You said you didn't want me to use lube."

"Yadda yadda. Can we please not talk about this."

"Yesterday you could talk just fine."

"I didn't know then that you would remember everything."

"And is it that bad?" asked Sam, his hazel eyes glaring at Dean. "Because I wanted nothing more tonight than to be able to remember and not forget what happened between us."

Dean looked at him uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

"Dean, I love you, magic spell or not."

For a few tense seconds, they both remained in their positions, with only the ticking of the wall clock breaking the silence. Then Dean stepped towards his brother. He stroked his arms, up until he embraced Sam’s face.

"Me too."

"Wow. I still can't believe it."

Carefully, Sam bent down and their lips found each other. The kiss was brief, but promises so much more.

"Are we okay?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, we're okay." smiled Sam.

"Good, because there's one more thing we need to work out."

"Yeah, what is it?" asked Sam, smiling mischievously. 

Dean glared at Sam. "How the hell did you manage to scratch the paint on my car?"

**Author's Note:**

> Witten for the SPN Be Mine Prompt:  
> One summer, Sam comes across a grimoire in the Bunker's library and finds a spell that only works on Valentine's Day. It gives the user one night to fulfill whatever fantasy they want with their object of desire, then memory of the encounter will be wiped completely from both their minds come dawn. Months go by, and Sam can't stop thinking about the spell. Soon it will be February. (Can be fully consensual or dubcon, but preferably not noncon)


End file.
